


Cut A Deal (We're All Gonna Die Anyway)

by zabiume



Series: The (Disastrous) Adventures of Inoue and Abarai [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Advance Team Arc, F/M, Friendship, Minor Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Rukia - Freeform, Minor Inoue Orihime/Kurosaki Ichigo - Freeform, Platonic Cuddling, Tumblr Prompt, renhime brotp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zabiume/pseuds/zabiume
Summary: A chance encounter with Renji before Orihime leaves to Soul Society blooms an unlikely, but possible friendship.
Relationships: Abarai Renji & Inoue Orihime, Inoue Orihime & Kuchiki Byakuya, Inoue Orihime & Kuchiki Rukia
Series: The (Disastrous) Adventures of Inoue and Abarai [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883725
Comments: 13
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [ tumblr prompt ](https://kazeshini-s.tumblr.com/post/627985287331577856/gonna-copy-recurring-polynya-here-and-say-if)that I answered for Orihime's birthday! 
> 
> Set in the Advance Team Arc, shortly before Orihime and Rukia leave to train in SS. Figured I'd add it here so it could be a preamble to this series, but it works perfectly fine as a standalone fic if you're aware of what happens in canon.

Deciding to leave home for a while and go off to train in another dimension is a lot of work, actually. Orihime realizes this halfway through teaching Captain Hitsugaya and Rangiku how to water her plants. She's due back in a few weeks anyway; it's not like she's planning on thinning Kuchiki Byakuya's patience by bumming out at his house for long periods at a stretch, but Chad gave her this moon-flower sapling and she really doesn't want it to die.

"Don't overwater," she says nervously, mainly to Hitsugaya, as they amble around her windows. "Don't let it dust. Maybe change up the location of the pot every few days?" She cranes her head to gauge his expression. He gives her a stiff nod of compliance. 

"It's just a plant, Orihime, how hard can it be?" Rangiku says reassuringly, half-looking up from her spirit phone and Orihime already knows Plantgetsu is as good as dead. 

She returns Rangiku's comment with a tight smile, though, clutching at her arms with such an intense grip that it _hurts_. Half of her is regretting letting Rukia talk her into this; Urahara is an adult, right? Maybe he knows what's best for her and maybe, maybe it's a good thing that no one trusts that she will be of any use? She sure as hell doesn't trust herself right now, feeling about as confident as a paper bag in a dust storm. 

_No_ , she scolds herself sternly. _Bad Hime! Snap out of it!_ She doesn't have time to mull over it, though, because both Hitsugaya and Rangiku crane their heads to regard the front door. Renji stands there, the back of one large hand pressed against her door, the other raised in a half-wave. 

"Mornin' Captain." He bows to Hitsugaya first. "Matsumoto." He wriggles his brows with a wolfish grin at her. Then, he regards Orihime with a questioning quirk of eyebrows as he takes off his shoes. "May I come in, Inoue?"

The question is redundant, seeing as he's taking off his shoes already, and that the shinigami have been using her house as an unofficial base of operations for a while now, but it's nice that he asks. 

"Of course," she chirrups, waving at him. "Can I get you some tea?" She's way too anxious to be _doing stuff_ , but he's a guest and she's anxious about _not doing stuff_ too. 

Thankfully, Renji shakes his head. "The Twelfth wants a once-over of the limiters' base count," he reports to Hitsugaya and Rangiku. "Urahara sent me over to ask if you'd stop by for a bit." He steps into the apartment and dusts himself off, before grinning at Hitsugaya. "Captain Kurotsuchi also said he wanted to talk to you personally, sir." 

"Tch. Figures," Hitsugaya mutters, shrugging on his haori with an irritated huff. He picks out a few dust bunnies from the sleeves, while Rangiku takes care of his back. When he's done and dusted, he starts to leave again. He's halfway out the door when he turns to Orihime as an afterthought, sharp eyes gazing at her with an unusual softness. "You might be gone by the time we return. Good luck on your training."

"And don't worry about your landlord, we'll be on our best behaviour!" Rangiku sings from behind him, much to his chagrin. Orihime smiles. They both zip out after that, leaving a giant draft of air in their wake. Suddenly, the apartment feels very vacant. 

"Must be kinda loud when they're here, huh," Renji says conversationally, leaning against her kitchen counter. "Dunno about the Captain, but Matsumoto sure knows how to take up her space." 

It's not mean, the way he says it. It's teasing, familiar. Orihime suspects Renji has a lot of experience with getting people to warm up to him, because he's very good at pretending awkward silences aren't all that awkward at all. It eases her, if only slightly, so she comes up to the other side of the counter to talk to him. 

"They're alright," she says honestly, running a finger along the granite. "Captain Hitsugaya spends a lot of time being pensive and broody on the roof and Rangiku helps finish the leftovers, so I'm not complaining." 

Renji grins immediately. “Didn’t say you were. Rukia told me you’d do a lot better job at hosting than Ichigo would, anyway. The guy looked like he was gonna blow a gasket if we spent a second longer in his room.” 

Orihime notices how his sharp accent softens around Rukia’s name, before carrying on again like usual. It’s subtle; she wouldn’t have noticed it if Chad hadn't implied that Renji might have a Thing for her, on the phone last night, but it might be true, who knows? Rukia is tough and cool and strong -- so if being around her must be empowering, then falling in love with her must be a cakewalk. She realizes she’s skidding down dark territories again, so she lets out a bright laugh. 

“He’s just...territorial.” Orihime smiles, a phantom pang in her chest at the thought of Ichigo. “He doesn’t like it when there’s trouble.” Duh, no one did, but it was especially worse for Ichigo, considering he had to bear most of the brunt on his shoulders. She shudders. 

“Right,” Renji says, watching her fingertips turn from white to pink as she unthinkingly grips the counter. He sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry about agreeing with Urahara back there. Rukia said it was an asshole thing to do, but that wasn’t really my intention.” 

Orihime feels a flame of humiliation and embarrassment heat her cheeks. Rukia told him?! “It’s okay! I know you didn’t mean anything bad --” He raises her hand to cut her off, but his dark eyes are gentle. 

“I don’t know you at all, obviously, but it’s clear to me that a lot of the team’s morale rests on your wellbeing. People care about you -- I mean, Chad nearly punched me and Urahara in the head and he’s kind of a non-confrontational guy,” Renji says, crossing his arms up to his unyielding chest. “And then _Rukia_ nearly kicked the shit out of me, but that’s par for the course.” 

Orihime giggles at the mental image of a tiny Rukia beating up a gigantic Renji on her behalf. “Are you guys close?” 

The creases around Renji’s eyes loosen up and there’s this warmth there that’s very palpable, very evident in the way it lifts the corners of his mouth at the very mention of her name. There’s a history there that she will most definitely ask Rukia about and Rukia will most definitely deny, but it sparks excitement in her belly. 

“We’ve known each other a while,” he says casually, “We kind of, uh, grew up together.” Force of habit; he’s spent forty odd years jamming their history into that narrow epithet and he has no intention of stopping now. 

Her smile widens and she claps her hands together. “That’s cute!” she says softly and he hopes to God this will not be a point of conversation for the two girls when they start training. Thinking about Rukia is painful enough sometimes, but thinking about Rukia thinking about him is a mental exercise he does not want to do during a _war_.

He grins back, despite himself. “I guess.” He shrugs, straightening his shoulders before looking at her solemnly again. “Can I ask you a question?”

She nods. 

“How did you find Ichigo the other day?” he asks, with a small frown. “Rukia said she searched for hours, but you stumbled upon him straight away?” If her reiatsu scouting is good, it might not actually be a bad idea to send her in with the Eleventh. It’s the safest place she’d be, and the knuckleheads wouldn’t get lost during a war of all times. Win-win. 

“Oh, I just...searched?” Orihime says slowly, with a perplexed shrug of her own. He frowns. That wasn’t what he was expecting. 

Then, things start clicking in Renji’s brain slowly. Oh. _Oh_. Could it be..? Rukia did mention -- “Are you two,” He searches for a teen-appropriate word that would be the equivalent of _boning_ , considering whatever colorful vocabulary Ikkaku’s filled in his head surely isn’t proper for this situation. “Together?” he finishes, lamely. 

The reaction is instantaneous. Orihime’s cheeks turn apple-pink, eyes blown so wide he can see the back of her skull. _“No,”_ she vehemently denies, her entire body floundering with her hands. “We are not together, no. That’s...that’s never corporeally or physically happened, never will. We are good friends, great friends actually! Ichigo is, um, a good friend! Really good!” _Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nope._

Renji doesn’t buy it. It’s like looking into the mirror of Inuzuri Renji, except with a lot less hissing and cussing and threatening to cut Mameji for even implying such a thing _at such a time_. He lets it drop, though, because Orihime’s eyes look dangerously on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to make a girl cry mere minutes after he’s apologized to her. 

“Tell ya what,” he announces, standing up. “How about we make a deal?”

Her stormy eyes shine at him curiously. “A deal?”

He nods. “You’re staying at the Kuchiki Manor with Rukia, right?” Probably. His Captain might not be _‘enthused’_ or _‘particularly content’_ rooming with a ryoka, but he can’t really see Rukia making her stay at the Thirteenth barracks if they’re as close as she claims they are. When Orihime nods in confirmation, he continues, “So you’re gonna be spending a lot of time with my best friend, while I’m gonna be spending a lot of time with your _good friends._ ” He smirks, throwing back her specific words at her. Being under Captain Kuchiki’s wing does that to a man. 

She flushes. “Yeah.”

“They’re all a bunch of lunkheads, so as the cream of the crop,” he says, pointing back and forth between them. “Let's look after them, alright?”

“You’ll look after Chad and Ichigo?” Orihime asks curiously. 

“As much as they’ll let themselves be looked after,” Renji confirms, considering they’re only all just getting to know each other. Anyway. “Rukia acts like a stone-cold stoic, but she’s actually a huge softie. Real huge.” He grins, already seeing her seething image in his brain at the idea of Renji tarnishing her image and making negotiations for her to be Taken Care Of. “Have her back, alright? She likes you.” 

“It’s a deal,” Orihime promises seriously, holding her tiny hand out for Renji to shake. He takes it, firm and serious as an understanding passes between them. 

“So, you wanna know some tried-and-tested tricks that’ll definitely work on Rukia in a spar?” He wags his eyebrows promisingly. 

“I’ll set the tea to boil,” Orihime says, looking both parts excited and _thrilled._

It suddenly takes very little for Renji to realize what Rukia sees in her.


	2. in the middle of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rukia and Orihime have girl talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd been toying with a little Rukia&Orihime in SS piece and I finally got to write it instead of...doing literally any of the 9,000 things I have due tomorrow. 
> 
> Set in the Advance Team Arc when Rukia and Orihime go off to Soul Society to train together.

The shoji to Captain Ukitake’s office slid open. 

“Captain!” Rukia bowed, the little edge of alarm in her voice making her captain straighten in his seat. “With your permission, I’d like to book training ground _#7_ for the month. Would that be okay?” 

She looked up, eyes shining expectantly -- almost excitedly. 

Ukitake coughed a little, fighting a smile behind his hand. “Does this have anything to do with the ryoka girl you brought back from the Living World?” Ukitake had seen the change himself, the way her shoulders stiffened slightly less at the mention of her younger, newfound friends. There was a vibrance there that he knew she always had, beneath the somber set of chin and purposefully wary eyes. It had appeared and disappeared with Kaien Shiba, but returned gradually -- _strongly_ \-- with Kurosaki Ichigo and his human friends. Ukitake tapped his chin with his index. “Lets see, ah…”

Rukia nodded. “Inoue Orihime, sir,” she answered, politely. “I’m thinking of training with her for a while.” 

“Very well.” He reached for a drawer -- the one with the training ground schedules and reservations and whatnot. He pushed it forward with one hand, the other reaching for the pen he kept tucked in his haori. “Don’t forget to sign your name, Kuchiki.” 

“Of course.” She took the schedule from him, carefully marking out the quieter afternoon slots that didn’t interfere with squad drills and other exercises. When she handed it back, she smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you, sir!” 

He nodded. “Is she staying with you, then?” he asked, more as a way of conversation than a formal inquiry. Kuchiki Rukia, much like her brother, didn’t have the habit of entertaining guests _willingly_ , but she seemed much more enthused about playing host to the Inoue girl than her many -- albeit insufferable -- cousins. 

“She’ll be staying with me at the Kuchiki Manor,” she confirmed, then grinned a little. “Brother said she was free to stay as long as she kept out of his way.” 

Ukitake laughed shortly. “I’ll bet,” he said, no doubt picturing Byakuya’s exasperation, poorly veiled by his desire to satisfy his sister’s wishes. 

Rukia retreated, muttering her courtesies and thank you’s as she made her way to the door. She was just about ducking out of the office when Ukitake called out to her. “Kuchiki!” 

She turned, a questioning hum in her voice. 

“I quite like the new you, you know,” he said, smile warm and almost teasing. “It suits you.”

To both their surprise, she just smiled.

_________ 

On the horizon of the Seretei, the sun was about to set. It drowned the entire landscape in a dusky orange, the air shimmering with loosely floating reishi that had scattered apart during their training.

On one side of the field, Rukia stacked up a few ping pong balls she had brought over for reflex and defense training. Orihime came up to her, hair-tie clenched between her teeth as she smoothed her caramel-like hair with her fingers. Flushed with post-work out sweat as she was, there was something ethereal about the way she _glowed_. It was effortless.

“Training went well today,” Rukia started, making way as Orihime began helping her load things into the box. “You okay?” 

“Mhmm.” Orihime smiled. “Just trying to figure out how to make my shield last a bit longer. It was kind of embarrassing how you could take it down with such a low-level kido.” 

Rukia scoffed. “You were distracted by that dumb bird,” she said, walking them out of the field and towards a little storage shack by the barracks. “Happens to the best of us.” 

Well, not really. If it happened in battle, a limb or two would be hacked off in that split second of distraction, but she didn't have the heart to push Orihime down on her first day. She had a good day. Rukia was _proud_ of her. That was all that mattered. 

Besides, there were other pressing things she intended to get to the bottom of. She turned on her heel. “By the way,” she said, a little frown on her face. “Just out of curiosity: where did you learn that little backhand trick with Tsubaki -- the one where you counter-attacked my bakudo _#9_?” Between her brother and a certain redhead, moronic best friend, she didn’t know a lot of people who could counter that as quickly as Orihime had. And as much faith Rukia had in her friend, her response had been a little too immediate for it to be just reflexes. 

“Oh, ah hah ha.” Orihime rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment even in the dim light of the shack. Rukia immediately narrowed her eyes at her. “Abarai..might have dropped a hint?” she admitted in a whisper. 

“I knew it!” Rukia declared, slapping a hand against that table. “That cheating, dirtbag, numbskull! Smelly shitbaboon!” This was sabotage! Treachery! Her two doofus, Big Heart Buds had _tag teamed_ her. “I’m so gonna beat his ass when we get back.” 

“Then you should beat me too, because I listened to him,” Orihime giggled, before turning a little dour. “I mean, at least his advice helped me get _one_ good attack in.” 

As they traipsed up a cobblestone path leading to the more affluent neighborhoods, Rukia regarded Orihime out of the corner of her eye, seeing her expression dull a little. She sighed. “Inoue,” she said, one hand on the small of her back to steady her. “It’s just day one. You’ll get better, I promise.” 

Orihime turned to her, a wide and hopeful look in her eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Rukia answered, surprised that she had enough confidence as a mentor to mean it. After figuring out Orihime’s style and pace, she’d already begun formulating training drills that they could do to help them both and she was very proud of herself for it. It could be a good learning experience for them both. 

Back when she was still running around with Ichigo, she often felt a little thrill at how -- despite their constant bickering -- he still regarded her as his sole authority on what to do when shit went south. He had no idea she wasn’t the brightest student in her class; he hadn’t even been there when her lowest lows had pulled her away from everyone else and into a lonely, depressive spell she took nearly forty years to get out of. He just depended on her to tell him what to do and somehow, she’d learned to get better at it. She’d gone from being a fluke that chanced upon a clueless teenager, to someone who actually knew what she was doing. She thought about what her captain had said to her earlier that day and found herself agreeing with him. 

“Abarai seems kind of nice,” Orihime said a few moments later, a little pointedly, like Michiru would back in Karakura High when she wanted to glean salacious gossip at lunch. She lacked the suave though, which made Rukia immediately flag her with suspicion. 

She scowled, a full-blown Ichigo-scowl that pulled all the way from her forehead to her chin. “He’s a doofus.” 

Orihime laughed, shaking her head. “I always thought he was a little scary,” she explained softly, almost fondly. “But he came to my apartment the other day and he was so nice! It was very easy to talk to him.” She turned to Rukia with a gentle smile. “It’s obvious he really cares about you.”

Rukia whirled on her heel, all veneer of indifference discarded. “What did he say?” she demanded. Why was Renji saying things about her to her friends? _What_ was he saying about her? What was so obvious? Her ears burned. She couldn't believe he had the gall to expose her battle vulnerabilities, only to pull a 180 and show that he _cared_ about her in the same breath. Idiot. 

“Do you like him?” Orihime asked, a little curiously. 

The word ‘like’ was a little reductive when it came to summarizing her and Renji’s intense and complicated history. Of course she _liked_ him once, in Inuzuri, when she was young-- in the way Orihime was implying. Then there was Shin’O, her adoption, him sauntering off to the Eleventh, her stabbing a teenager in the chest and nearly getting executed, slowly building their friendship back up after the Karakura kids had left. There was the fact that there was a war looming and she might never see him again -- that they might _die_ with a million words unspoken between them. Unspoken on her end, of course. She had no idea what was running through Vice-Captain of the Sixth Renji these days. No idea what he thought of her, either. 

Rukia shrivelled up under Orihime’s expectant gaze. “Of course I like Renji,” she grumbled, carefully looking at the ground. “He’s my friend. He’s very easy to like.” Everyone liked Renji, even Brother -- though neither of them would admit it. Renji was a likeable person.

She narrowed her eyes at Orihime. “What?” 

To her dismay, Orihime giggled. “I think you _like_ him,” she teased, just as they came up to the Kuchiki Manor front lawn. Before Rukia could say anything more intelligible than the incomprehensible splutter, Orihime had already sprinted to the gate. 

Rukia followed, ignoring the thudder of her heart while she was at it.

_________

Dinner at the Kuchiki Manor was peculiarly eventful. Orihime had initially been a little intimidated by the sober colors of the house, the silence that rang through the long and confusing hallways. Then there were the maids, seemingly appearing and disappearing from shadows whenever Rukia or Byakuya summoned them. Empty tea cups and porcelain bowls would vanish completely out of sight the _second_ they touched the tables. The house felt like it was snagged with tripwires; you could do one thing wrong and the entire place would blow up.

Which was probably why a few maids might have shot her a weird look or two when she waddled gingerly around the house. 

Then there were her hosts -- Rukia, who she adored, and Byakuya, who scared the living crap out of her. They seemed to mainly communicate in things that often meant other things, and sometimes -- when she could keep up -- she would notice that they would very eloquently trash-talk people, mainly other nobles and seemingly unpleasant aunts. It was a very different side to Rukia, but one that fit in Orihime's mental image of her nonetheless. There were so many things she had kept in mind to tell Ichigo and the others that she was sure she would eventually forget once she got back home. Whenever Byakuya found a particularly ridiculous way to phrase something completely normal, she found herself thinking of Ichigo and how bewildered he would be. And then she would just as quickly find herself eating with vigor and focus to avoid missing him. 

That was how she found out Byakuya did not like people stabbing their plates forcefully, anyway. In that one sole regard, he and Sora were quite similar. 

Occasionally, Rukia would draw her into the conversation -- ask her to weigh in with her opinion on something they were talking about. While Orihime appreciated Rukia's efforts to include her, she honestly couldn't think very well over the sinfully amazing Kuchiki dinner. There might have been _sake_ in one of the dishes and she felt slightly exquisite at the fact. 

Thankfully, Rukia caught on soon enough and urged the maids to keep serving her seconds until her belly could burst. Byakuya had given her a very Judgy look, though, to which she had nothing to say but plenty an urge to run away with his chef. He'd eventually chase after her and use 'bankai' and then Rukia would feel very sad that she picked a fight with her brother, so she decided against it. For now, she would just graciously eat and thank her lucky stars she had a friend this awesome. Rukia was an _awesome_ host. 

As the night pulled on, everyone began retiring into their own drawing rooms and studies and whatnot. Rukia had offered to walk her to the guest room she had been given, but had been called back by Byakuya, who wanted to talk to her about some charity event they were hosting on the weekend. Orihime didn't mind. She liked walking around the house, anyway. If she got lost, she'd just trust one of the Shadow People to help her. She knew they were out there. 

Along the main courtyard, she saw Rukia’s -- presumably -- cousins lazing around in a little alcove by the garden, no doubt enjoying their post-dinner haze. A lot of them had the same high nose and sharp features that Byakuya did, though some of them seemed to shoot very boyish winks at her when she walked by. 

That had her quickening her pace, a furious red blotch on her face. It had never occurred to her that some of Rukia's cousins might have been young -- or at least _looked_ young. The youngest might have already been a few centuries old. It was like living with vampires, but without the blood-sucking. She shuddered and turned corridors, finally finding the room assigned to her. 

She let out a breath of relief and immediately tackled the futon laid out for her. It was soft, too silky compared to the threadbare mattress she had at home but she was tired and her body thanked her by easing up once it hit the surface. 

Suddenly, the door opened. 

Orihime let out a surprised squeak that muffled in her pillow when she turned around, half her hair going directly into her mouth. She eased when a familiar black head popped into view. 

"Mwukia!" She spat out a few hairs. "Rukia! What are you doing here?" 

Rukia entered the room, one hand messily dragging her own futon behind her. She was in her dark, sleeping yukata, which still looked very elegant and finer than most people's _normal_ yukata. She grinned.

"Thought I'd bunk with you," she said. "If you don't mind." 

Orihime grinned back widely as she shoved her own futon aside to make way for Rukia. "Of course I don't mind," she said, patting the space beside her. "I've been looking forward to having a sleepover with you since the day we met." 

Rukia chuckled, plopping down beside her with a satisfied sigh. "I've never had a sleepover," she said, turning on her side to face Orihime. Unless you counted her extended stay in Ichigo's closet, which she didn't. "But I'm guessing they're fun."

"They are," Orihime said cheerfully. "It's a great opportunity to talk about our hopes and fears, our aspirations, our embarrassing memories...Hey, Rukia, were those boys outside your cousins?" 

Rukia groaned. "What did they say to you? Did they hit on you?" She turned to Orihime. "Was it Hideki? That boy's got a real mouth on him. Please tell me it was Hideki so I have an excuse to hit him." 

"I don't know," Orihime said, with a shrug. "One of them, um, winked at me, though. He was kind of cute." 

Rukia jerked her head so hard she felt a crick in her neck. "Orihime, _no_ ," she said in horror. Then, she grinned. "Oh, I'm so gonna tell Ichigo about this." The prospect of being very vague and insinuating about Orihime's encounter with her cousin thrilled her, because she knew Ichigo would take the bait and pretend not to care while inwardly grousing all day about it. 

She twisted, anticipating Orihime to flounder and splutter, but she was just returned with a very speculative silence. 

Rukia edged closer, nudging Orihime's shoulder with her own. "Hey," she said. "What's up?" 

When Orihime turned her head, there were tiny tears that were collecting at the corners of her eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I was just thinking about how I miss him -- well, all of them really -- and I got a little teary, hehe. I just really wonder if he's eating enough and if anyone's t-taking care of him and telling him he's doing a good job. He works so hard and he's so worried about things, I just wish I could…" She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her palm. "I want to get stronger so I can be there for him, but sometimes I feel like there's this giant wall between us that I can't push past and I don't try very hard to push it because I want him to feel comfortable about approaching me, not forced." 

Rukia paused, uncertain of what she should say. There was a thin line between reassuring Orihime and violating Ichigo's trust, considering what she knew about how he felt. It's not like he ever told her explicitly, but she knew it wasn't her place to throw caution to the wind and tell Orihime things about Ichigo that he himself wasn't ready to tell her yet. She only hoped he wouldn't take too long. 

She realized she'd been quiet for a while, so she decided to ask the question she'd frankly been curious about for a while. "Inoue," she said. "I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds here, but why haven't you ever told him you like him?" 

There was a sharp intake of breath. Then, Orihime started speaking every so quietly, like she was measuring her words carefully. "Being friends with Ichigo, it's done a lot of good for me. He makes me really, really happy and he's the most amazing person I've ever met," she explained. "Tatsuki always says it's just a schoolgirl crush and I'll get over it soon, but that isn't even the point, really. I just like him. I like being around him and helping him. I don't really expect anything in return. He's got so much on his plate all the time, I don't want my feelings to be one of them." 

Ichigo would probably feel very guilty about not returning her feelings. He'd probably say something like _'I'm sorry I couldn't protect you...from me'_ because Ichigo was Like That. Besides, how could she tell Rukia that sometimes the space behind her breastbone ached with such a fiery ferocity for him that she was afraid it would be char by the time she got to someone else? _If_ she got to someone else. It wasn't like she was holding herself off from other guys, it was that she couldn't give them the kind of love she had for Ichigo. It wasn't fair -- to her _or_ them. 

She knew she was only fifteen; she knew she didn't know a lot of things, but she knew, she _knew_ she loved Ichigo. The sky was blue, she liked dorayaki and Laugh Hour, she _loved_ Kurosaki Ichigo. Fact.

Rukia swallowed, feeling her chest tighten in the strangest way possible. She knew what it was like, feeling like her emotions were a burden to someone else. Unlike Orihime, though, she didn't open up her heart and let her feelings flow despite the odds. She bricked them all in and convinced herself she didn't need them. Didn't need Abarai fucking Renji. And once she got to the Thirteenth, once she set foot in Karakura, there was a time where she really _didn't_ need him. But something felt hollowed out in her chest nonetheless. Empty. Left behind. 

"Inoue, you're pretty damn tough, you know that?" she said suddenly, sitting up. "You're the toughest, most amazing girl I know." 

Orihime's tears leaked furiously from her cheeks as she sat up too. "But I'm not," she protested, shaking her head. "I can't do things for him the way you can." 

Rukia glowered, yanking Orihime up by the shoulders. She firmly cupped her cheeks, ignoring the little sobs coming from her parted lips. "This isn't about him!" she yelled, rattling her. "This isn't about stupid Renji either! It's about us. _We_ get to decide what tough means _for us_! Not that bastard Urahara, not those bastard Arrancar. Us. What's all this bull about not being tough enough for Ichigo, huh? You're amazing. I've seen Captains in the Gotei with less maturity than you! Heck, Inoue, you should be the Captain of all three planes of existence!" Yes, that sounded like a very good idea. There would be no war and plenty of free food and shoujo for everyone. 

Orihime's sob transformed into a choking snort. Rukia was doing the Thing again where she was yelling, but saying very nice things, making Orihime a little confused but very pleased. 

Rukia thumped her back, feeling a little embarrassed at having lost a little steam after her rant. 

"You're amazing too," Orihime whispered, letting her face snuggle into Rukia's shoulder. "If I'm going to be Captain of the three planes then I want you as my Lieutenant." 

Rukia let go of Orihime and flopped back to her futon, a grin on her face. "Deal." 

They both lay there for a while, pondering each revelation dropped by the other. Then, Orihime spoke,

"So. You like Abarai, huh?" 

Rukia groaned, clapping her eyes with her hands. "I take back everything I said in the last ten minutes." 

"No takebacksies," Orihime singsonged. "Everything you say in a sleepover remains confidential. It's a golden rule -- Chizuru told me." 

Rukia sighed. She had _never_ told anyone about Renji -- not even to Ichigo -- but she supposed she could do a little spilling after Orihime had all but _poured_ herself out to Rukia. 

"Fine. I had a stupid crush on him back in Inuzuri, when we were kids. I stopped having a stupid crush on him for a while, after I was adopted. I...might have a slightly stupid and weird crush on him now but the timing is all bad 'cause, you know...the war." 

"The war," Orihime echoed, feeling the phrase press a shudder into her bones. She could relate all too well. "It isn't stupid though. I think you two would be very nice together." 

"You think everything is nice," Rukia grumbled, ignoring the pink of her cheeks. She was not about to sit here and talk about Renji of all things, even if it was clear Renji had talked about _her_. Suddenly, her brain flashed with the devil of an idea. 

"Hey," she said, immediately turning to meet Orihime's eyes. "Wanna hear Inuzuri Renji stories?" 

Inuzuri Renji stories were stories she had never told anyone before, _and_ it served as payback. Besides, the way Orihime was sitting up excitedly, it didn't even seem all that bad of an idea. That's what sleepovers were supposed to be about, right? Sleepovers were confidential until Orihime would eventually let it slip to Renji that they'd talked about him. Perfect. 

"I'd love to hear Inuzuri Renji stories," Orihime emphasized, already propping her chin attentively on her palms to listen to Rukia. 

Rukia sighed. This was just going to be one of _those_ nights. 

"So, there was this water tumbler that I had set my sights on…"


	3. Odious Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rukia and Byakuya abandon ship, Orihime attends a Kuchiki Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the Advance Team Arc, while Orihime is training with Rukia in SS. This is very inspired by polynya and asuka's comments about Problematic Kuchikis and Byakuya Brothering in the way he knows best. 
> 
> Title is from that one Special Report that said "[Orihime's] offenses are odious!" or something like that. Hilarious. 
> 
> Also big shoutout to Choei Kuchiki, who is very much a character invented by the lovely polynya. Do go read alllllll her fics if you liked this one!

In retrospect, Orihime should have realized that dead people had a slightly off-kilter approach when it came to food. Being set apart from modernity, as well as having no real urge to eat other than the phantom habit of it, might have a thing or two to do with it. This came to her a little-too-late, when the _tempura_ she was slowly chewing started to feel a little numb on her tongue. 

When she’d dined with the Kuchikis on her first night in Seireitei, she had been so hungry and excited, she hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, there was a suspicious excess of spice in the _wakame_ , but she’d never prided herself in being a connoisseur of ‘normal food’ anyway, so she’d shrugged it off. It was only as the days wore on that she started finding the food a little…strange. Wispy. Like a pale imitation of what real food – Living World food – tasted like. Tea would always taste a little tangy, the difference only _just noticeable_ to the extent where you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was that made the food here so…different. 

“It’s the shrimp, isn’t it?” she heard a smooth voice coming up from behind her shoulder. “Tokuzo, our chef; he’s always overdoing it on the shrimp.” 

Orihime turned over her shoulder and had to bite back a choke of surprise. It was the boy from last week – what had Rukia called him? Hideki?

“Kuchiki Hideki,” he introduced himself importantly, tapping down the plum, silky fabric of his clothes. “Sixth heir to the main line.” 

“Inoue Orihime,” she echoed nervously, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “Erm…guest?” That’s how Rukia had told her to introduce herself, anyway, on the off-chance someone wanted to talk to her. She hadn’t thought anyone would.

“I know who you are.” Hideki winked. He had the jet black hair and high-set nose that Kuchikis were apparently Spirit World-renowned for, and when he lazily brushed a long strand of hair out of his eyes, they _sparkled_ on cue. She suddenly felt a little self-conscious, a tiny piece of shrimp still hanging from her lips. When she saw him give a very brief, very appreciative once-over of the yukata one of Rukia’s personal attendants had bought for her, she felt her fight-or-flight flare up. “You don’t like the food?” 

_Oh this is bad_ , her brain chimed. Her womanly intuition told her to flee. 

“Aha ha,” she said sheepishly, anyway, giving him a friendly smile. “I don’t mean to look ungrateful or anything. The food is perfectly fine, I’m just…taking it all in.” 

And that was not far from the truth. Attending a Kuchiki charity event was the farthest thing on her mind when she had set foot here to train, but Rukia had requested her to come and she felt bad about saying no to her gracious host, so she’d unwittingly dragged on some fancy clothes and trailed behind Byakuya and Rukia until the brother-and-sister duo had been dragged off to some aunt’s private chambers to talk about matters she supposed neither of them were very enthusiastic about. That had been the selling point of the whole thing! Neither Byakuya nor Rukia were the socializing type and Orihime had suspected they would be here fifteen minutes tops before Byakuya cited “an ailment” and hauled their awkward butts out of here. 

So here she was, by the food table – the only place she felt like she belonged, in the throng of adults and Rich People. 

“Must be difficult,” he said, slyly leaning his elbow across the table in front of Orihime, probably to cut off her access to an exit strategy. Or he had a cramp. Orihime suspected the latter, in good faith, even as a voice suspiciously like Tsubaki’s snorted in her head. “I mean, I was a little embarrassed myself when I found out a ryoka like you would be attending _these things_.” He gestured around him with an indifferent sneer. 

Orihime raised her eyebrows curiously at his tone. “Do you not like charity events?” 

Hideki suddenly straightened, realizing what that might imply about him. “Ah, of course not,” he said formally. “Indeed, the runts of District 67 have my utmost sympathies – Uncle Kuchiki’s fundraiser for the dust-storm victims truly tugs my heartstrings. I just meant, well,” he leaned in smoothly, like he was whispering a secret. “A beautiful woman such as yourself would surely have other sights of interest that fit her stature better?”

Orihime gaped. “M-my stature?” she squeaked, not understanding if this was a euphemism for something or just generally how nobles Spoke. This conversation was occurring on a wavelength that her mecha processors suddenly could not read. She fought a persistent urge to hide under the table when an oily grin slid onto his face.

“So humble,” he teased, his pearly white teeth flashing victoriously. “I read the papers, you know. Cousin Choei,” he made a face, “is always bragging about his exploits with the Living World culture, but _I’ve_ read the Special Report in the Seretei Newsletter.” He leaned in, allowing Orihime to catch a whiff of his expensive scent. “They call you a dangerous woman.” His voice was low, tongue rolling around the phrase like it was relish. “Odious.” 

“I wish!” she blurted, suddenly feeling like she was in some sort of Bond movie – except Hideki made a _terrible_ Bond and she really wished Rukia was here. She inched away from him and smiled waveringly. “I’m really only here as a friend. I’m not that tough…that’s, well--” Her brain flashed with an idea. “That’s Ichigo, actually!” She brandished her bicep very uncourteously, stunning Hideki to a point where he took a step back. _Success!_ She rambled on. “Ichigo is my friend. His bankai is very strong. Have they written about him, too?” She wondered if she could get Rukia to help her find a copy of this so-called report. 

Hideki’s mouth slackened, impervious to Orihime. “I suppose I might have read a thing or two about Kurosaki Ichigo,” he groused airily, his nose upturned. “Though bankai is not what I would refer to as a good metric of strength. Why, our own lieutenant has it.” He snickered and looked very proud of himself, like that was a good argument for why bankai was not impressive in the slightest. 

Orihime beamed, however, his words having an opposing effect on her mien. “You know Renji?” she squealed excitedly, gaining a few disdainful looks from nearby aunts and uncles. “I know him, too!” She fanned herself over the temporary bout of excitement. “Small world, huh?” 

“I suppose,” Hideki replied, starting to feel slightly disinterested. Admittedly, he did not have the “swag” (Choei’s word, not his) that Cousin Choei had, nor did he have the disinterested flair of Uncle Byakuya that many women found appealing; but he was a ninth seat, soon to be eighth if his lunkhead lieutenant would just stop making him _work for it_. Surely, he had some fuel left in him? Or was the ryoka not impressed? Perhaps she had indulged in far more dangerous exploits than he had. He was just about to try one last ditch attempt at smooth-talking when he saw Orihime move her mouth to speak. 

“I think you’re right, though,” she said, softly, looking into the distance. “Bankai isn’t at all an indicator of strength –“ 

He perked up, ready to move in for the kill. 

“–it’s character,” she continued, with a wistful sigh. “And Ichigo, he’s made of the real stuff, you know? He’s kind and he’s strong and he gives _so much_ to his friends even when they never ask for it. He likes to protect people,” She smiled. “It’s why his name fits, see? _The one who protects_.” She emphasized each syllable, like some sort of love-song or haiku wrapped up in a sweet whisper. 

Hideki sourly wondered just how mighty fearsome this Kurosaki Ichigo really was, if he had this woman weak-kneed and misty-eyed _an entire plane of existence_ away. “Listen –“ 

Orihime’s eyes suddenly widened at a spot behind him in, what looked like, relief. Someone cleared their throat.  
“Nephew Hideki,” Byakuya droned smoothly, his steady eyes briefly flicking to Orihime, before resting on his nephew again. A single pace behind him stood Rukia, her gaze fixed on Orihime, desperately pleading her to give one reason – any reason, really – she could use as an excuse to punch Hideki in the face in front of all these drowsy aristocrats. Orihime stepped closer to the siblings, noticing how Hideki cowered away from them slightly. 

“I take it you have been _hospitable_ to our guest?” Byakuya asked, mildly. 

Hideki stiffened, before bowing. “Of course, Uncle,” he said quickly. “I was just ensuring the shrimps were adequate to Miss Inoue’s tastes, you know how enthusiastic Tokuzo tends to get.” 

Rukia snorted loudly. Byakuya folded his hands in front of him, looking unimpressed. “I was of the impression that the shrimps were fine,” he said stiffly. He jerked his head slightly to the right. “Sister?” 

“Perfect,” Rukia nodded, her mouth shifting into a courteous smile, but her eyes pulled into a sharp glare. Orihime gasped, making a mental note to ask her later how she _did that_. The way Byakuya and Rukia contorted themselves made Orihime think they weren’t talking about shrimps at all. 

“Of course, Uncle,” Hideki bowed, looking slightly relieved when both Rukia and Byakuya made no move to accost him further. He withdrew, deciding to take his leave quickly. “Uncle. Lady Kuchiki. Miss Inoue.” He scampered away, blending in with the swishes of other nobles’ clothes, before disappearing entirely out of their line of sight. 

“Sorry we took so long,” Rukia said, turning to Orihime with a frown. “Aunt Iwa was being a –“ She glanced at Byakuya. “—pushy,” she modified. “She was being really pushy.” Orihime giggled. 

Byakuya helped himself to a plate of _namasu_ , as though he had not heard them. 

“Was Hideki being creepy with you?” Rukia demanded, and he didn’t miss the snarl at the edge of her tone that was slightly unbecoming in their current environment, but he let it slide. He was just about looking for a good excuse to leave as well, after a quarter of his socializing hour was eaten up by Aunt Iwa’s talks of marriage – both on his and his sister’s behalf. He frowned. 

“It’s alright,” he caught Orihime saying. “He was just trying to make conversation.” 

Suddenly, Byakuya felt a pinprick of annoyance. Be it the family elders or youth, it had seemed that not a single Kuchiki – sparing him and Rukia, of course – had developed the decorum of not being nosy or pushy. He straightened his head, mouth set into a thin line. “I am sure once the Third Seat drafts this month’s cleaning schedule, he will find himself making conversation with the dust in our store barracks.” 

Rukia’s eyes widened. “Brother –“ 

“Come now, Rukia, Inoue,” he said suddenly. “I feel an unanticipated ailment of the stomach coming on. Perhaps the shrimp _was_ a little distasteful.”

He strode forward without waiting for them to follow. Behind his back, Rukia and Orihime exchanged surprised grins, taking off after him.

.

“You know,” Orihime said, a few hours later, after finally having stalked up to Byakuya. Finding him in the Kuchiki Manor was a Herculean task, considering he seemed to actively avoid any room where she was being loud, and well, _herself_. But she’d wrangled the chef into revealing his location and here she was, enviously eyeing the silky locks that spilled across the sleeves of his nightclothes. 

She didn’t really have a lot to say to Byakuya, and before today, she didn’t have much of an impression of him either. She watched his back straighten, his gait paused as he waited for her to continue, despite their positions, relative to each other, not easing up the communication process in the slightest. 

“I always thought you were a little scary, like the samurai antagonist in this web series I used to watch.” She wondered briefly if Byakuya had ever seen a web series. He seemed like the type to like drama, and if they ever became friends by the end of this trip, she would give some recommendations, she decided, with a tilt of her head. Then, she grinned. “But I see why Rukia likes you now. You’re very brotherly!” 

She didn’t wait for his response, taking off into a corridor in the opposite direction. A few resounding crashes later, he presumed she had made it to her quarters. 

Running her words over in his head, his ears reddened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATE: [12-10-2020]: Some of my fics and my AO3 in general are undergoing heavy revision, but they're only slight changes; so if you're the type that re-reads, you might notice a few barely-there changes that have been EATING at me for weeks. They're barely noticeable, but I'm crabby so...heads-up? Follow me on tumblr for more niche content that literally 2 1/2 people enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! send me prompts for orihime's birthday on [tumblr! ](https://kazeshini-s.tumblr.com/)


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